Remus 'Barbaric' Lupin
by cyanwolfstar
Summary: Lupin decides to put a stop to Harry's habit of endangering himself after he discovers that Harry is in possession of the Marauder's map. Continues to follow some events in their relationship in the following years. Absolutely not slash. Warning: contains corporal punishment
1. An Uncomfortable Encounter

A/N: This fic will contain corporal punishment and I'm genuinely sorry if that offends you – please don't proceed if it does.

 **This is set in PoA, after Remus finds out that Harry has the Marauder's map.** It's quite a quick read, sorry.

The perspective has a little bit more omniscience than I intended which might make it feel a bit disorganised to read – apologies. It also hasn't been beta'd, so forgive me for any small (or glaringly obvious) mistakes. This is my first attempt at HP fanfic, so I'd be really grateful if you could drop me a review. Thanks, and enjoy!

* * *

Remus Lupin shut the door to his office with slightly too much force, betraying the fury that coursed through the usually equanimous professor. He strode across the room, coming to a halt in front of his desk, gathering himself and assessing the sight before him; one that never failed to send shivers down his spine.

He was confronted by the perfect image, albeit a currently very contrite and anxious one, of one of his closest childhood friends. The boy had all of James Potter's qualities down to a T, from the ruffled black hair cascading over his eyes to the almost defiant stance that emanated easy confidence and readiness for action. Presently, however, the most prominent characteristic in Remus' mind that young Harry shared with his father was his blatant disregard for rules designed to protect him.

"Explain," Remus began curtly, "what on _earth_ you were thinking, keeping an object such as this in your possession. In the wrong hands this would most literally provide a map to your location, Harry, and with Black on the loose, the amount of danger you are needlessly placing yourself in is inconceivable. And with what benefit, hm? The opportunity to play some amusing pranks, is that it?"

The angry diatribe from his normally reserved professor left Harry struggling for words. "I'm not sure, sir, I… I wasn't thinki—"

"Yes, Harry, that is most clear to me." Remus cut in, "From what I have heard from other teachers, your abysmal lack of forethought has caused you to endanger yourself countless times during your Hogwarts career, and it is something that I intend to put a stop to immediately."

"And, uhh, how do you intend to do that professor?" Harry said, his anxiousness manifesting itself in a slight waver in his voice.

His professor's reply was short and to the point. "By spanking you, Harry."

Harry blanched. The word itself made him cringe, making him feel like a small child, and yet he knew from an unfortunate experience involving Molly Weasley and the back of a hairbrush during his stay at the Burrow in second year that the immense pain a spanking could cause was by no means childish. Squaring his shoulders, he said, "Isn't that a bit… medieval, professor?"

Amused by the boy's delaying tactics, Remus decided to humour him. "Elaborate."

"Well, you see, nowadays many critics concur that corporal punishment is a most barbaric and positively hypocritical practice; to avoid inflicting physical pain on the child and instead simply explain the negative impacts of their disobedience, emphatically impressing upon them not to repeat their actions is the most effective course of action."

Despite the situation, Remus struggled to suppress a grin at the lad's use of words. Again, he was reminded so much of James as a teen, trying to worm his way out of a detention with McGonagall, stringing together as many long words as possible to sound factual and important.

"Did you just call me barbaric?" Remus questioned, arching an eyebrow. He held up a hand to quell Harry's stuttered response, allowing a small smile to show he was not serious. "Perhaps you could count out for me the number of times someone has 'impressed upon you' not to repeat your actions and put yourself in danger?

Harry pondered over this for a moment. "Well, there was Professor McGonagall in my first year, after the dragon incident, and then again after the whole thing with the philosopher's stone, and I suppose Mrs Weasley when Ron and I… Ah," Harry paused, "I suppose I see what you're trying to say, professor."

"Yes," Remus nodded, "it has become evident to me that despite the numerous attempts by those who care for you to instruct you to desist from unsafe activity, you have proceeded with behaviour consistently endangers yourself. It seems that it warrants a more emphatic course of action, no?"

"Well, maybe, but you don't have to be so bloody dramatic about it. A detention would do me just fine." Harry replied, frowning.

" _Language_ , Harry," his professor admonished, "It would be well advised for you to curb this attitude, as I will not tolerate it. Are you telling me that you believe that a single detention would leave a serious impression on you? And Harry, please answer me honestly."

Harry considered Professor Lupin's words. In all fairness, he could not count the number of detentions he had received this month alone on one hand, and, whilst it went against his every fibre in his body, he conceded that perhaps the punishment his teacher had in mind would be more effectual. Acquiescing, he sighed "I guess not, sir."

Remus nodded in approval. "Will you submit to a spanking without a fight, then, Harry?" He said gently, understanding the lad's internal battle.

Harry turned beet red. He had never imagined that what had started out as a slow evening perusing the map would end up with him in such a humiliating situation, and yet he daren't defy Professor Lupin. The man, who in class seemed so harmless and amicable, with his oversized knitted jumpers and mugs of steaming tea, had turned out to be a force to be reckoned with, with a stern side that left Harry feeling like a very young child. He had been relieved when Lupin had saved him from Snape's wrath, but that relief had quickly turned to terror when the professor had grasped him firmly by the back of his hoodie and dragged him towards his office. He made a mental note never to cross Remus Lupin again.

"Yes, professor." Harry ground out in disbelief at what he was agreeing to.

Remus, relieved at the boy's cooperation, said, "Alright, Harry, let's get this over with. Unclasp your robe and come over here."

Remus settled into the armless chair that sat in front of his desk. Despite the residual anger at the carelessness the boy had exhibited, he watched in sympathy as Harry unclasped his robe with shaking hands and lay it over the back of a chair. He was clearly nervous, and Remus began to question whether he was being too hard on the lad. No, he had known James for a decade, and he was certain that his old friend would have dealt with his son in this way for the same infraction. He was not under the illusion that this spanking would be much easier on himself than it was on Harry, though. Even if the child thought he would enjoy punishing him, quite the opposite was true. Inflicting pain on his students was not his number one hobby, and the fact that this was his friend's son meant that this would hurt Remus even more deeply to do so.

Remus felt a twinge of pride as Harry, who had had hovered anxiously for a period, drew his shoulders back and lifted his head up high, walking over to him without stalling any further. Facing up to his punishment with a bravery that almost equalled that of his parents; this boy was truly James and Lily's child.

Giving him a reassuring glance, Remus guided Harry over his lap, drawing the thin body against his own. With a sharp swish of his wand, he charmed down the younger one's trousers and shorts.

Harry gave a small whimper at the loss of his clothing. He had resolved to take his punishment like the man he was, but this was an unexpected turn and made him feel very much like a five year old. He gasped as the first smacks began to rain down on his unprotected backside.

Remus wasted no time in lighting a fire on Harry's bottom, evenly and methodically covering his bum and upper thighs in smacks. Harry's attempt at maintaining composure was admirable, Remus had to say, but before long his backside was a deep shade of pink and each smack summoned an indignant yelp. Remus decided it was time to begin discussion.

"Why are we in this position, Harry?" Remus asked.

"'We' isn't really _ouch!_ accurate is it, sir? I'm the one _AH!_ over your lap!" Harry replied.

Arching an eyebrow, the professor elevated his right knee slightly in response, exposing Harry's sit spots, to which he applied a volley of extremely forceful smacks, eliciting a pained screech in response. "Now is not the time for attitude. Try again."

" _AH!_ I kept the _OW!_ Marauder's Map!" Harry squealed.

"Which was dangerous because…?" Remus encouraged.

Harry, who felt as though a fire had been ignited on his arse, managed to garble out, "Sirius _AGH no!_ Black is on the loose and he could.. _OUCH please, sir, STOP!_ he could use it to find me."

Remus upped the tempo of his spanking, asking, "And why am I spanking you, Harry?"

"You're sp—punishing me because.. _AH!_ I endangered myself" He replied, straining to keep the little dignity he had left and refrain from crying like a child in front of his professor.

"Whilst that is true, Harry," Remus said, keeping up the furious pace of smacks, "I am doing this because I care for you. My world would be shattered if you were harmed, and I know the emotional pain it would cause many others too. Please, Harry, promise me you will not put yourself in any more situations that are even the slightest bit dangerous?"

Lupin's pleading tone and words of affection caught Harry off guard, causing the tears he had held back for so long to come unbridled.

"I promise," He whimpered, his words punctuated by heaving sobs.

The boy's voice was dripping with remorse, and Remus decided it was time to wrap up the punishment. Delivering five final resounding smacks to the small, deep scarlet bottom before him, the professor righted Harry's clothing, gathering the lad into his arms, careful to avoid contact with his smarting bum.

At any other time with any other person Harry would have objected to this close contact, but he took comfort in the professor's presence and leaned into his chest, clinging onto him. Remus allowed him to remain like this, quietly sobbing into the older man's shirt, until Harry made the move himself to stand up.

Finding the silence suddenly awkward, Harry felt the need to apologise once more, properly. Developing a sudden fascination with the floor, he mumbled almost imperceptibly, "I'm really really sorry, sir, I didn't think how my actions could hurt others, too."

Fortunately, Remus was quite capable at interpreting 'contrite young lad', and placed a finger under Harry's chin, gently tipping his head upwards to look into his eyes. "Son, there's no need to apologise further. The spanking is over and you took it with admirable dignity. You are forgiven. Better get yourself back to bed before your friends notice you're missing and embark on a mission to find you, hm? I don't need any more children roaming the halls at this hour."

Harry responded with a crooked grin that reassured Remus that he had not been overly harsh. "I think Ron's far too involved with tap-dancing spiders to worry about me!" He said, heading towards the door.

Remus shook his head in wonderment. There were some things about teenagers that would never cease to confound him.

"And Harry," He called after the boy, who swivelled round, "No detours. I will know." Remus tapped the map that lay on the desk in front of him, directing a knowing look at lad. Harry gave an unsurprised laugh and a nod of acknowledgement, and continued out the door.


	2. A Parting of Ways

A/N: Whilst this fic does contain corporal punishment (again, please stop reading if that offends you), there is none in this chapter.

 **This is set at the end of PoA, after Remus' condition is made known by a certain someone and he is forced to resign.** I'm on my Christmas holidays, so I've been able to get this chapter up pretty 's relatively short, and serves more as a kind of transition chapter, but I still hope you enjoy it!

I know some details probably aren't super accurate, but it would be great if you could momentarily suspend your disbelief :)

* * *

Remus was a mess. Dark bags were prominent under his eyes, his tawny hair was strewn in bedraggled strands across his forehead, and worry creased his face. He had not slept for days.

He was still stunned by Severus' actions. He had known the dark-haired potions master had a spiteful streak, but he had not realised that it ran this high. In all honesty, he had believed that there was still some good in Severus; James and Sirius' relentless teasing of the man as a child had always made Remus feel uncomfortable. And yet, he had still shattered Remus' hope of any future employment with a few letters sent to the wrong type of people.

The exact details of Remus' affliction were soon spread across the front page of the daily prophet. One of the Hogwarts professors was a lycanthrope? Scandalous! Soon enough, letters were flooding in from concerned parents, including one Mr. Malfoy, who threatened the most unpleasant consequences should he remain in his position. Dumbledore had assured Remus that they could work around this, that they would find a way for him to stay on as a teacher, but he knew that by defending a werewolf, Dumbledore's reputation would be permanently damaged. He handed in his resignation the next day.

Remus sighed and slumped deeper into his chair. It was the middle of the night and yet sleep was far from him. On a whim, he glanced over the Marauder's Map, checking that all was as it should be. Fear jolted through him as he saw that the Gryffindor boy's dormitory was lacking a certain Harry Potter. Suddenly awake, he pored over the map, desperately searching for a sign that Harry was safe and in the castle.

After what seemed like an eternity, he discovered a small dot with the label 'Harry Potter' floating next to it nestled in the astronomy tower. Relief washed over him, quickly followed by anger. Harry had had a habit of roaming the castle at night; one that Remus had quickly and emphatically made his displeasure for known. He had thought he had put a stop to it, but apparently that was not so, as the lad was most definitely not in his dormitory. Hogwarts was by all means not the safest place in the day time – at night this threat was magnified greatly. And yet here the boy sat, at one in the morning, ignorant of the danger the ancient castle could pose to his safety.

Remus shook his head in disbelief and set off to confront the child, muttering something about 'selective hearing' and 'disobedient youngsters' as he went.

* * *

Remus burst through the door to the astronomy tower balcony with a clatter, his stomach dropping at the sight of the small, shivering figure, clothed only in threadbare pyjamas, curled up against the wall.

"Harry…" he said, his anger dissipating completely as the younger one raised his head to meet the gaze of the professor. The boy's face was puffy and tear-streaked, and the emerald eyes that usually carried such an animated twinkle were brimming with emotion. Remus rushed to his side, unclasping his own thick cloak and wrapping it around the thin body, before lowering himself to sit next to the trembling child.

"What on _earth_ possessed you to come up here at this time, Harry? Couldn't sleep, hm? I was under the impression that we discussed this in great detail," said Remus, the bitter wind whipping his hair around his face. He wrapped an arm around the lad, drawing him closer to his body heat in an attempt to quell Harry's incessant shivering.

He looked down, and to his great surprise found a furious glare directed at him.

"You're leaving," Harry spat out, unbound rage written across his face, "just like everyone else does."

Remus felt as if he'd been stabbed. He was the cause of Harry's anguish, and yet he could do nothing about it. He felt overwhelming sympathy for the lad; the boy had spent the majority of his childhood without any adults who cared for him, and suddenly two came along, Sirius and himself. They had provided Harry a link to his parents, giving him the impression of having some sort of family, only to both announce their departure soon thereafter. He must have felt lied to and cheated – they had teased him with the idea of support and protection, only to cruelly withdraw it from his reach.

"Oh, Harry," Remus sighed, "You know if I had even a modicum of choice concerning the state of affairs, I would not have it this way. Your anger is completely warranted, my boy, and I understand, I really do, but I'm afraid there's nothing I can do. But this is not the end, son. If you need me, do not hesitate to contact me and I will respond immediately."

The words seemed to take the edge off Harry's anger and he leaned into the professor. "You promise?" He whispered, barely audibly.

Remus smiled down at him, relieved to no longer be the subject of his choler and happily noting the lack of shivering. "I promise, Harry," he said, gently carding his fingers through the younger one's hair. He could see the rise and fall of the lad's chest slowing, and knew that he was close to sleep. Any illusion he had earlier had of punishing Harry for his misdeed was long gone. Gently, he lifted the restful child and carried him back to Remus' own quarters, laying him on the bed in his spare room. In slumber, all trace of conflict and distress melted off the boy's countenance, leaving behind a thirteen year old boy without a care in the world. Remus sighed. If only so much was true for Harry in waking.

* * *

Harry woke up bleary-eyed in a haze of confusion. Feeling for his glasses on the desk beside him, he slid them on, unsure of where he was.

Remembering something of the events of the previous night, he called out "Professor?" uncertainly. Receiving no response, he slipped out of the bedroom and found himself in what must have once been a cosy living room, but now was strangely bare. Inspecting his surroundings in more detail, Harry noticed a small piece of folded parchment resting on the only piece of furniture, a rectangular side table, with his name written on it.

 _Harry,_ it read, _I am terribly sorry, but my departure was moved forward to this morning. I did not wish to wake you and I hope you are feeling well rested. Should you need me, Hedwig will be able to find me. Our paths will cross again soon. In the mean time, stay out of trouble, young man!_

 _R.J Lupin_

Harry smiled contently and tucked the parchment into his breast pocket, heading off to find his friends.


	3. A Reconciliation

A/N: This chapter will contain corporal punishment. If this offends you at all please do not read on. This one also has a tad more angst, which means there is use of coarse language in places. Again, if you aren't okay with that, stop here.

So we've had a bit of a huge time jump, and **this chapter is set in OotP, as Harry arrives at 12 Grimmauld Place.**

 _ **Important**_ **:** I have altered the events slightly from canon to better fit my story: Lupin is not part of the 'advance guard' that escort Harry to the house, but is instead at Grimmauld Place when Harry arrives. Hopefully my reasoning for this will make more sense as you read the chapter.

This is my longest chapter, so get comfortable! I really hope you enjoy reading this as much as I've enjoyed writing the fic. If you do (or equally, if you don't) I would be extremely grateful if you could drop me a review. Thank you!

* * *

Harry was nothing short of completely bewildered. What had begun as just another monotonous night at the Dursleys' had turned into quite the adventure, and he now stood in awe as an entire house unfolded itself from what had previously been a tiny gap between two houses, containing nothing but cobwebs. It was a grand, monolithic building with grey-green mottled bricks and sweeping gothic features, and yet somehow it had a slightly dilapidated air, as if it had not been properly cared for. Printed on the warped glass above the doorway in peeling gold leaf were the words '12 Grimmauld Place'.

"I love magic," Harry muttered, half to himself. Despite years immersed in the wizarding world, the rush he felt at witnessing magic would never quite leave him.

Moody's gruff tone drew Harry out of his trance. "Pick your jaw up off the floor, boy," the weathered wizard instructed, "and get yourself inside before we're seen." With that, the auror strode up the front steps of the imposing house and yanked open the door, disappearing into the hall. He was followed by Kingsley, Tonks, and the other members of the advance guard. Soon, Harry found himself alone on the street. Left uneasy by Moody's comment, which seemed to imply that there was some reason that being seen would be dangerous, he hurriedly made his way into Grimmauld Place, shutting the door behind him.

On stepping into the house, he was immediately drawn into a tight embrace. His initial rush of adrenalin at the unexpected contact was countered by a feeling of joy as he sank into the familiar, earthy scent of leather and bike oil with a slight hint of carbolic soap.

"Sirius," he laughed, "you're crushing me!"

His godfather chuckled and stepped backwards, gripping him by the shoulders and looking him up and down.

"Merlin, Harry, you've grown. What happened to the scrawny thirteen year-old, eh?" Sirius questioned in amusement, ruffling Harry's already unkempt hair, "You'd have given James a run for his money."

Harry grinned at the allusion to his father and moved past the older man, side-stepping a scrawny house elf to fall into the open arms of Molly Weasley.

"Oh Harry," she gushed, "we've all been ever so worried about you. Oh my, you've got ever so thin. Pop to the kitchen, dear, I'll prepare you a quick sandwich or something."

Harry smiled at the fussing matriarch and said, "Thank you Mrs Weasley, but I-"

He froze as the door to what could have been the kitchen swung open. Any lingering wonderment at Grimmauld Place and gratitude towards his rescuers melted away completely, transforming into tumultuous rage at the figure who stood in the doorway. Remus Lupin, his absentee professor.

He could feel the fury pulsing through his veins, threatening to overwhelm him and take control. This man had lied to him, shamelessly. Lupin had departed at the end of his third year leaving Harry satisfied with promises of contact and support, and yet when he had sorely needed the guidance of the older man, all he had received was a cold silence. Countless letters had been returned by Hedwig, unopened.

Blood boiling, Harry shook off Mrs Weasley's concerned touch and made towards the man.

"Liar," he shouted, ignoring the Molly's shocked gasp, "you absolute fucking _liar."_

"A year," Harry continued, encouraged by the twisted glee he took from seeing Lupin's confused and hurt countenance, "a whole year and not one bloody word. You couldn't even _begin_ to understand what a shitty year it's been for me, too. Voldemort came back because of me, someone _DIED_ because of me and you, you bloody bastard, where the hell were you. I _needed_ you."

"Harry…" Remus began, clearly pained at the boy's hurtful tirade.

"Don't patronize me, _Lupin_ ," Harry interrupted, still raging "I'm not a child anymore. You can't tuck me in with some sweet, deceitful words and make everything better. Take the hint and bugger right off out of my life again so I can get back to normal."

"Please, Harry, control your temper and put a stop to this attitude, and then maybe we can talk about this like reasonable adults," Lupin tried again.

That was the last straw for Harry. Ire bubbled up within him, reaching the surface and consuming everything in a red haze. Control over his actions slipping just out of his reach, Harry closed the gap between himself and the older man and swung a fierce punch at his head.

His fist connected solidly with Lupin's temple, sending his old professor clattering into the shelving unit behind him. Harry felt firm hands clamp down on his shoulders, but the restraint was unnecessary; his anger had run dry and he was staring at his throbbing knuckles in disbelief, appalled by his own actions. As Tonks attended to the injured lycanthrope, Harry suddenly became aware that all eyes in the room were on him, and shame flushed bright red in his pale cheeks.

He turned his head, shocked to meet the onyx glare of the Hogwarts potions master, who pressed his hands more firmly down on Harry's shoulders.

"Mr Potter," Snape drawled, condescension dripping from every syllable, "if you are quite done with this childish outburst, perhaps you could take some time to think – a skill I know does not come easily to you."

Harry bit back a retort at the last remark, realising that he was in no position to talk back.

Snape continued, "As you are undoubtedly completely ignorant of this fact, I will take the liberty of informing you that last night was the full moon. Accordingly, Mr Lupin is in no state to withstand this sort of unwarranted abuse, and personally, I, along with, I am sure, everyone else who witnessed your little tantrum, am _disgusted_ wi-"

"Thank you, Severus, but I am quite capable of handling this myself," Remus cut in, now standing, although leaning heavily on Tonks. "My room, Harry, first floor, second on the right. Find a corner and stay there. I'll be up soon."

Remus' unusually brusque tone drove home to Harry the severity of his actions, and he hurriedly exited the kitchen, followed the directions and deposited himself in the corner of the man's room, nose to the wall.

* * *

It soon became clear to Harry that Remus Lupin had a very strange definition of 'soon'. It felt like he had been standing with his nose up against the musty wallpaper for a bloody eternity. Each passing minute served only to build on the anxiousness growing within the boy at the imminent confrontation with his old teacher, and by the time footsteps finally approached the bedroom, the raging inferno that had initially been Harry's anger was reduced to fading embers.

Remus entered his bedroom and shut the door behind him with a soft click, nodding his approval at Harry's position in the corner of the room. At least the boy had come to his senses.

"Are you ready to talk, Harry?" Remus asked, "Perhaps with less foul language, this time?"

The teen, who breathed a sigh of relief at the indication that Remus did not wish to confront his misbehaviour straight away, gave a small nod.

"Good lad," said Remus, drawing two chairs out from his small table, "Come, sit."

Approaching the other man and sitting down, Harry couldn't help but release a small gasp as the flickering light from the lamp caught the Remus' face and the sprawling web of black and blue covering the left side became visible.

Catching Harry's shocked stare, Remus gave a bitter chuckle and raised a cautious hand to his temple, wincing as he caught a tender spot. "Yes, you left quite the impression, Harry."

Harry stuttered, unsure of what to say. "I… I'm sorry, sir, I just… I was so angry. When Cedric… went, I felt so, so alone," he choked out, gazing intently at his lap.

"Eyes on me, please, Harry," Lupin instructed, and he reluctantly raised his head, "Look, son, I-"

Residual resentment clawed its way back up Harry' throat. For a time, he had viewed this man as a father figure, but his absence had destroyed that. He had no right to address him as 'son'.

"Don't bloody call me that," Harry spat out, seething, "You clearly don't care about me. Maybe if you hadn't been, I don't know, off doing Tonks in the Bahamas for a year, I'd believe that you actually meant that."

Remus pinned the boy with a furious glare in response; his famous patience was beginning to slip away from him.

"Mr Potter," Remus began, "are you planning on letting me finish a sentence, or do I have to employ an alternative method of retaining your full attention."

The formality of the tone and the implications of the man's words gave Harry chills. He muttered a brief 'sorry' and sat back, indicating that the man should carry on.

Remus continued, "As I thought. I am going to begin by apologising, Harry. I know I made you a promise before leaving Hogwarts, and it was most hypocritical of me to break it, considering how firmly I had advocated the virtue of your keeping of promises; believe you me, not being able to contact you tore me to pieces. But there was no way, my boy; Hedwig could not find me because not even I knew where I was for quite some time. Werewolf prosecution toughened considerably in the months after my resignation, and to show my face at all would put my life at risk instantaneously; I had to go underground. Please, Harry, understand that if it was at all within my ability I would have reached out to you immediately."

Remus' explanation left Harry speechless. He felt as though the room was caving in around him as he came to the suffocating realisation that Snape was right; his outburst had been completely unwarranted. If only he had given Lupin even a moment to explain…

Unnerved by the boy's lack of response, Remus gently prompted, "Harry?"

Caught off guard by the caring tone, the fifteen year old burst into tears that had been threatening to come since he arrived at Grimmauld Place. "I... I'm sorry," he mumbled, not caring that he must have looked like a pathetic toddler.

"Oh, Harry," Remus sighed, standing up and drawing the boy into a tight embrace. Remorse was written across the Harry's face, and he concluded that talking would get them no further. Remus allowed the lad to remain in his arms until he was sufficiently calmed before stating, "Now, young man, all that is left to do is address the matter of your behaviour."

Harry stiffened at those words. He had almost forgotten the edge Lupin's tone had had when he had sent him upstairs – one that had promised painful repercussions for acting so out of hand. However, the anger he had initially felt at that implication was now replaced by a resignation to the fact that he most definitely deserved whatever Remus had planned.

Remus stepped backwards and placed a hand on the boy's shoulder, meeting his anxious gaze with a kind countenance, appreciating the lack of complaint from the teen. "No need to delay proceedings," Remus said, making his way over to the bed and sitting down, "to me, Harry."

Harry made his way over, halting a foot or so in front of Remus.

"I trust you can remove your trousers and shorts without my assistance, Harry?" his old professor asked. Harry blushed and nodded his assent. Shaking fingers working to undo the zip of his jeans froze as he heard the familiar jingle of a belt buckle being undone. Years at the mercy of Vernon Dursley had taught Harry to fear that noise above all else, and he stepped away from the older man, holding his hands out in front of him warily.

"Please, sir …don't," he pleaded, his stomach flipping as Remus simply raised an eyebrow in response. "I… You… My uncle, he…"

Remus, understanding what Harry meant, had expected just as much. Placing his belt on the bed beside him, he gently but firmly stated, "Harry, this is different. What the Dursleys inflicted upon you was unjust and without provocation, I am sure, but this is at the hands of someone who cares deeply about you, son. I know how much you can take, and I will not exceed that. Also, you must agree that your infraction warrants a harsher punishment than a simple hand spanking, no?"

Harry saw the truth in Remus' words, and, whilst reassuring him that he was in safe hands, again the teen was reminded of the gravity of his offence.

"I suppose so, sir," he replied, reluctantly complying and removing his jeans. His boxers quickly followed, and he all but launched himself across Remus' lap in an attempt to avoid exposing himself and keep as much dignity as possible.

Remus stifled a chuckle, saying, "I didn't realise you were so eager to start, Harry."

The lad released a derisive snort, but recognised the man's amused tone and said nothing else.

Reminding himself of what he had to do, Remus sobered himself and raised a hand to begin. He was a naturally pacifistic man and inflicting pain went against his nature, but he recognised the dangers of letting Harry's lack of control over his temper to continue and knew he had to take drastic measures to ensure he put a stop to it. The last thing he wanted was for the boy to come to harm. Exhaling deeply, he brought his hand down with a resounding smack.

 _Bloody hell_ , this hurt more than Harry remembered. At the first strike of Remus' hand pain blossomed across Harry's unprotected behind. Gut wrenching at the thought that the belt was still to come, Harry sank into the rhythm of the smacks, trying desperately not to let out a sound. He cursed as he let out a gasp; if he couldn't get through a few measly slaps without making a noise, how would he be able to bear the rest of the punishment?

Remus frowned. The boy was clearly bottling up his feelings. Elevating his right leg, he delivered a series of methodical smacks to the boy's tender sit spots, a technique that never failed to elicit a response and in this case drew a pained squeal from the lad.

"You have nothing to prove to me, Harry," Remus said firmly, "it does not make you weak to let out your emotions."

Satisfied with the even rosy hue of the teen's upturned backside, Remus felt that it was time to initiate discussion.

"Okay, Harry, let's talk. Tell me why we are in this position," Remus started.

" _OW, sir!_ I.. I let my anger _ah!_ get the better of me and _AH!_ shouted at you," Harry responded. Remus had not forgotten the boy's sarcastic response to the same question over a year ago, and was pleased by his compliance.

"Correct, Harry," He said, evenly applying smacks to the lad's bottom at a furious pace, "what else?"

Harry needed no prompting. The feeling of his fist connecting with the side of his old teacher's skull was one that would not leave him. Embarrassed, he replied, "I punched you, sir."

"True. Would you care to tell me why that is _absolutely_. _Unacceptabl_ e." Remus punctuated his last words with firm smacks.

Harry stuttered, searching for a response. He knew what he had done was wrong, but he couldn't put it into words. Desperate, he said, "...because it _AH!_ …hurt?"

Arching an eyebrow, Remus replied, "That it most definitely did. But that is not what I mean, Harry. You are an extremely important person, not just to me but to the entire wizarding world. For the next few years, as You-Know-Who's return comes to light, the amount of public scrutiny you will face is unbelievable. You _will_ learn to control you temper, or you will find that the general public are much less forgiving than me and the rest of the Order."

Remus' relentless spanking, coupled with the realisation about just how much trouble his anger could put him in, wracked Harry's body with heaving sobs. Remus, noting this, decided to move on to the final part of the punishment. Shifting slightly, he picked up his belt, gentling tapping it on the boy's smarting bottom to make the change of implement known, and, with a sigh, brought it crashing down on the tender behind.

Harry stiffened at the touch of the cold leather. Anticipation twisted in the pit of stomach, and as the belt whistled through the he visibly cringed, jolting and crying out as it bit into his vulnerable bottom. Four more strikes followed in quick succession, each one blurring into the next as Harry was sent into a world of pain.

Remus, who had resolved to give the boy a full ten strokes to meet the severity of his transgression, softened at the evident hurt felt by the thin figure sprawled across his lap. "Three more, Harry," he said, softly, "Just three, you're fine."

" _AH!"_

Pain again coursed through Harry's body as a wake of searing fire was left across his backside.

"Please _… STOP!"_

The next stroke was laid on with no less force, lighting another line of fire across the tops of his thighs.

" _AHH!_ I'll never do anything like it again. _Please,_ sir, I promise!" Harry sobbed at the final stroke, which was carefully placed across the last two, stinging mightily.

"I'll hold you to that, Harry," Remus said, laying his belt aside. He allowed Harry to gather himself and shuffle off his lap, wincing sympathetically as the boy pulled his trousers up.

After being so resolute in his actions all evening, Remus was suddenly unsure over what to do. The young man had been correct about one thing earlier, at least; he was no longer a child, and Remus didn't know whether Harry would accept his comfort, or whether he wished to put on a show of being stoic and unfazed. He stood up to thread his belt back through his waistband, and his uncertainties were answered as the lad collapsed into his chest.

Remus was quietly satisfied that, although James and Lily's son was growing into a fine young man, some things would never change. He wrapped his arms around Harry, drawing the boy closer.

They remained like that for a while, the older rubbing small circles on the younger's back, until Harry detached himself. He looked bashfully at Remus, and said, "Look, sir, I know you say I'm all forgiven now and stuff, but I… I just wanted to apologise for, um, you know…" Harry gestured at the side of his old professor's head.

"Articulate, as ever, Harry," Remus smiled down at him, "Yes, well, at least I am now aware that you have a smashing right hook. I shan't have to worry if you get into any altercations with muggles now, shall I."

Harry flashed a crooked grin at the man, who added, "Although I won't be worrying, anyway because I will _not_ be hearing of you getting in any altercations whatsoever, hm?"

Remus' warning tone subdued Harry slightly, who replied with a quick, "No, sir."

"Good to hear, son," the man replied, "Now off with you. Sleep is calling to me like a lover. Perhaps I'll take her to… the Bahamas, was it?"

Harry flushed red and hurried out the door, mumbling a short "Goodnight, sir".

Remus chuckled and shut his eyes, flopping onto his bed with impressive absence of grace. Falling away into a deep sleep, his last thoughts were concerning how Harry Potter would most certainly be the death of him.

* * *

Harry tiptoed down to the kitchen, not doubting that the entire house had heard his pained squeals and wishing to avoid confrontation, if only for now. Creaking open the door, he popped his head inside, heaving a sigh of relief at the sight that only the sole figure of Mrs Weasley sat at the long yew table.

"Harry, dear," she crooned at the sight of him, "how are you? Can I get you anything?"

Again, Harry thanked whatever god resided above for the gift of Molly Weasley, who didn't pummel him with interrogative questions as he expected, but instead simply asked after his welfare.

"Um, hi, Mrs Weasley, I'm fine, thanks," he grinned sheepishly, his stomach rumbling audibly "I'm terribly sorry about the commotion I caused earlier, but I was just wondering if I could grab that sandwich now?"

 **A/N: I feel like this fic is perhaps complete, but I could potentially continue it so I'm going to leave it as 'In Progress'. If you feel like it could carry on, please do message me or drop a review. Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed it and have a good day!**


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